


Fly me to the moon (let me play among the stars)

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Butterflies, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love Letters of a Sort, M/M, Post-Endgame, References to PTSD, Tony-centric, Tony’s nicknames, but he tries, so a different endgame, stephen is bad at saying things, thanos is dead and that’s all ya need to know, tony stark is a sap and you can’t change my mind, unconventional love confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: “Normally, either some alarm he’d set the night before or a very annoyed wizard would be what woke Tony up in the morning.This morning, it was something poking him repeatedly in the nose.“





	Fly me to the moon (let me play among the stars)

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea, and I needed to write it. I’m giving me happy post-my-version-of-endgame ironstrange and i will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.   
> I hope you like, let me know if you did!   
> Thank you for stopping by! :D

As eloquent as he was with magic and neurosurgery, when it came to personal matters, Doctor Stephen Strange wasn’t good with words. And by “personal matters,” he meant Tony Stark.

Nothing felt… _full_ enough, nothing encompassed the simultaneously small and massive emotions that dizzied him when they were together. It was no help at all that he’d never spoken to someone like this before. There were people in his life that he cared about, people he loved, and they knew he loved them, of course—it was just difficult for him to say it sometimes. Perhaps it was lingering trouble with vulnerability or perhaps Stephen simply didn’t communicate that way, but it was starting to bother him.

Because Tony wasn’t like that. Tony couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut about _anything_ , so naturally, he loved being verbal when he was affectionate. Whether it was tired _love you’s_ mumbled into Stephen’s shoulder at night or his array of pet names, Tony enjoyed letting Stephen know how much he cared about him.

That didn’t even cover touch. It had surprised Stephen to find out how much Tony communicated feeling through touch. If someone wasn’t close enough to him, Tony wouldn’t touch them, didn’t like touching them at all. But with Stephen, it was like floodgates were flung open. He brushed the small of his back with a hand when he passed by, Stephen couldn’t cup his face or put a hand remotely close to his shoulders without it being caught and kissed, and Tony held hands like a middle schooler with his first boyfriend.

Stephen _loved_ it.

But he felt…inadequate, in response. He didn’t say things like that all the time, nor did he initiate the touching himself. He knew that they were different people and it was natural, but he still wanted to show Tony in some concrete way how he felt.

That was why, when the idea struck him one day, he decided, to hell with it.

 

 

Normally, either some alarm he’d set the night before or a very annoyed wizard would be what woke Tony up in the morning.

This morning, it was something poking him repeatedly in the nose.

“Fri, not now,” he grumbled, flapping a hand in front of his face to ward her off. She didn't let up, and he flopped over onto his back. “Cut it out, ‘m sleepin.’”

FRIDAY’s ever-helpful voice spoke lightly overhead: “ _I'm afraid that's not me, Boss.”_

Oh, if this was one of Parker’s pranks, Tony was going to kill him. He blinked open hazy brown eyes and squinted at the blur of white in front of his face. “What the…?”

It was a butterfly. A tiny thing, colored like cream, and darting about above him. He watched its careless movements, trying to figure out how it’d gotten in here. As he did, another flicker caught his eye and he realized that the butterfly wasn't alone; two more soon joined, floating in easy circles over his head. He stared, dumbfounded, and the beginnings of a realization turned in his mind.

“Ah. Hi.” He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to see one land on his stomach and crawl about the fabric of his tank top, almost curious. “You the wake-up committee or somethin?” he asked, stretching out a hand to his bedside table for his phone. As he did, another set of miniature legs tickled along his forearm and he nearly smiled. His phone had a few messages on the screen, one a voice recording from Peter (“hi, Mr. Stark! How's your day? I did a backflip for a little girl and she told me I could be a cool Disney princess!”) and a text from Stephen.

 

**Sparkles** :

_Good morning, Tony. There's some work at the Sanctum today, so I won't be able to visit until later. Would've invited you, but you sleep like shit, so I didn't want to wake you. I did send something for you though, I hope you don't mind._

 

As he finished reading, a butterfly landed on his nose and moved its wings like it was stretching. Tony smiled crookedly, reaching up to let one take a spot on his finger. “So. You _are_ the wake-up committee,” he muttered. At the sound of his voice, their wings gave little shivers and then vanished in a puff of glittering dust. He shook his head. “Sappy wizard.”

 

 

That wasn't the end of it.

“Hey,” he protested, as a couple of stowaways took refuge in his hair, while he was getting ready in the bathroom. He gave them a halfhearted glare in the mirror, standing with product-sticky hands useless at his sides. They batted their wings at him like innocent eyelashes. “If your whole goal is to get me up and ready, you're doing a shit job at it,” he told them matter-of-factly. “‘Cause I can’t do anything until you move it.”

They nearly looked disappointed as they took off from his hair to circle his head. They let him go about his styling, as Cap put it, but didn't stray too far. Once in a while, a tickle of feet against his skin would pull a half-smile out of him, despite his scolding.

One of their touches did bring him up short, hands still raised to his hair. It was a different touch, one that made his pulse skip. There was a heat contained to it, a tingle along his nerves just under his skin. It felt as warm and real as a kiss. He lifted his arm more to see the offender, and spotted another butterfly perched on his elbow. This one was even smaller than the others and a beautiful sunset shade of red. No sooner had he found it than it took off again, joining its array of friends in the scatter above his head. “You my good-morning kiss?” he asked amusedly, holding out his hand. A white butterfly took the offering of his fingertips, light, and then the red landed on his palm. Yes, it definitely felt different, a caress of warmth and electricity. He released a deep-held sigh.

Strange could be so damn _romantic_ , it was sickening.

Letting the butterflies roam the room with him, Tony went about changing next, into sweatpants and a black tee. It was a lazy day for sure, no one stopping by today besides Stephen and maybe-definitely Peter. The triangular glow of the Arc Reactor caught his gaze in the mirror and he took a moment to watch its steady pulse. It wasn't needed anymore, not to keep him breathing, anyway. But he found that he couldn't sleep without its assurance, let alone step foot anywhere else. Without it, his mind was a roiling mass of _whatifwhatifwhatif_ —

Tapping it once, he disconnected it for the few seconds it would take to change shirts. A stubborn part of him claimed it was so that it wouldn't get caught on the fabric, even though it never did. The real part of him wanted to pause and skim his fingertips regrettably along the scar tissue underneath.

_Stupid_.

He reached for his shirt, then halted as a love-scarlet butterfly floated up to him. It took its time in a soft descent to light upon his chest, over the Reactor’s scar. Warmth flooded his skin and he found himself blushing. “Outta the way,” he chuckled, waving at it. and it obeyed to let him put on his shirt. As he tugged the neckline down to reposition the Reactor, it hovered before him expectantly. He quirked a brow at it. “What now, hon?”

He was taken aback when it flew forward and landed on his lips. It was only half a second. But it was sweet, like sunshine, and when the butterflies once again disappeared, he found himself grinning like a fool.

 

He was trying to work when the last ones found him: stretched out on a sofa in the living room, laptop on his legs and a popsicle stick between his teeth. The mindless typing and programming turned into something more concentrated, turned into something like an itch. He squinted at the screen, frowning. There were definitely some updates that could be made to Peter’s suit, especially some safety measures for his new flight features…

His glasses were lifting off his face.

“You little shits,” he muttered at the six helpful butterflies flapping away with his glasses in tow. “Y’know, this is cheating, right? If Stephanie were actually here, I’d be able to kick his ass.”

“Oh, would you now?”

That familiar, low voice spoke seemingly from nowhere, and Tony glanced up at a shower of light. Stephen stepped from the whirling portal with an amused smile playing across his lips. He looked like molten magic, sparks reflecting in the blue-green of his eyes and with the Cloak of Levitation whispering like carmine wings behind him. The fact that he was fiddling with his hands bashfully only made him all the more beautiful.

Tony smirked, leaning an elbow against the arm of the couch. “If it isn’t the magic show himself,” he teased, earning himself an eye-roll. He twirled a finger at the butterflies floating about with his glasses. “You wanna explain?”

“Perhaps it would be best if I show you,” Stephen ventured.

“Ooh, hands-on, huh? Be gentle, Doctor.”

“You’re worse than a teenager.” Giving Tony a scolding frown, Stephen knelt in front of the couch and held out his hand. For a freezing second, Tony thought he was going to propose, and his heart slammed into his ribcage. But instead, a swirl of gold appeared above his open palm, coalescing into one last butterfly. This one was bigger than the others, and breathtaking in its early-dawn hue. It fluttered from Stephen’s hand to land on Tony’s chest, over his heart.

The moment its legs touched down, the world lit up.

A flood of heat opened up in Tony’s chest and burst against his ribs. Emotion, powerful shaking emotion, wracked him: a caress of golden admiration and a galaxy-huge devotion that bloomed like stars, and tore a gasp from his throat. It was like seeing the universe spin in motion around him. He knew at once that _this_ was what Stephen had been trying to tell him. This was…

He stared at Stephen with wide eyes. “ _Oh_.”

“I hope that wasn’t…too much,” Stephen said, glancing down at his trembling hands.

Tony swallowed. “It wasn’t.”

“Ah. Good. I know you’re not entirely comfortable with the mystic arts yet, so I wasn’t sure…”

“It was fine.” _It was more than fine, you magical idiot._

“I just wanted to have a way to—tell you, because you know I’m not as vocal as you and—”

“I’d make a sex joke, but I need you to kiss me right now,” Tony cut him off, abruptly leaning up off the couch and pressing his lips against Stephen’s.

Stephen gave a startled hum, brows raised and face flushed. God, he was _adorable_. Tony’s fingers threaded up into his hair and Stephen relaxed into him, kissing back softly. His hands were ever-gentle as he placed one across Tony’s chest and guided him back against the couch’s arm again. His thumb pressed to the plate of the Arc Reactor, insistent pressure against what had been the very heart of him. Tony shivered. The golden butterfly was still there, crawling up to the side of his neck. It trailed sensation like kisses across his throat to just behind his ear, and he couldn’t stop the heady sigh that fell out of him.

It was Tony who pulled back first, only far enough to brush their noses together and watch the hazy blue in Stephen’s eyes. He smiled at what he saw there. “I love you too,” he murmured.

Stephen smiled back and it was the universe opening all over again.


End file.
